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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29644197">burn from the center</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/melk24/pseuds/melk24'>melk24</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe, M/M, PWP, Prostitution, Sexual Slavery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:40:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,352</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29644197</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/melk24/pseuds/melk24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Obi-Wan finds his mouth has gone rather dry. The boy is still staring at him, and he wets his lips quickly, trying to find the voice to speak. “What’s your name?” He finally asks.</p>
<p>“His name is Anakin,” Madame Baretts says, and Obi-Wan would turn to glare at her, but he can’t bring himself to break the moment. Instead, he just raises his hand.</p>
<p>“I don’t believe I asked you,” he says, and watches as the boy’s face shifts into a small smile. “What is your name?”</p>
<p>“Anakin Skywalker, sir,” the boy says, looking down at Obi-Wan with hooded eyes. His voice is rough and gravelly, and Obi-Wan can feel the hair on his arms stand up. “And I am pleased to be yours for the evening, if that is your desire.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>188</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>burn from the center</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Additional warnings: One character lies about another character's age to make him appear underage; however, everyone in this story is above the age of consent.</p>
<p>thank you to rhia for being my sounding board, cheerleader, and final editor as always, and thank you to lizzy for the beta!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You’re making a mistake,” he says, falling in step behind Quinlan to let a larger group of farmers pass. “On a list of all your terrible ideas, this one is rather high up there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quinlan laughs, loud and booming. “Come on, Obi. You just need to loosen up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not padawans anymore,” he argues, quickening his pace so he can fall in step with his fellow Jedi Master. “As much as you insist on it. In fact, we’ve both had padawans of our own.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Quinlan agrees, “but Tano isn’t here, is she?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t deign to respond to that one. Quinlan laughs again, and jams his elbow into Obi-Wan’s side through their cloaks. “You know as well as I do that the code doesn’t say anything about this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan is grateful that his beard almost certainly hid his growing flush. “Like I said, we’re not padawans anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Neither is Mundi,” Quinlan says, and Obi-Wan shudders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d rather we not discuss — any of that,” Obi-Wan grumbles, “Although now you have me thinking about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As long as it distracts you from lecturing me about something that is, need I remind you, perfectly natural.” Quinlan leads them around a corner, and immediately the air gets a little dustier, the characters a little rougher. “If you’re so against this, why are you coming with me anyhow?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Someone has to make sure that you don’t embarrass yourself, or get yourself killed,” Obi-Wan says. “Plus, you know how much I like lecturing you. This is the perfect opportunity.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quinlan stops in front of an unmarked door and then turns to face him. His hood is still up, but Obi-Wan can see the smile on his old friend’s face. “Just relax,” he says. “I’ll do all the talking, if you’re unsure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There won’t be anything to talk about,” he insists, but Quinlan has already turned around and pushed open the door. Obi-Wan casts one last glance around him, but he doesn’t know Mos Eisley well enough to go wandering off now. With a sigh, he follows Quinlan through the doorway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes Obi-Wan’s eyes a minute to adjust to the darker room, especially considering how bright the sun had been outside. It’s smaller than he expected, and the floor is covered in soft cushions. Despite the size of the room, however, it doesn’t feel crowded, although Obi-Wan can see dozens of people in front of them already. Most are, he notices with growing apprehension, half-naked, if not entirely nude.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll take those for you,” a voice says, and Obi-Wan looks down to find a scantily clad woman standing at his elbow. There’s another next to Quinlan, and as Obi-Wan watches, his friend shrugs off his cloak and hands it to the waiting girl. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh — no, that’s alright,” Obi-Wan says, automatically reaching up to hold the folds of his cloak in one fist. “I’d rather not —”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We insist,” the second woman says, and Obi-Wan can feel her hands creeping up over his shoulders. “Wouldn’t you like to be comfortable, sir?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I —” He tries, but Quinlan looks back over at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take it, girls,” he instructs, and the two women giggle before pulling Obi-Wan’s cloak from his shoulders and tugging hard enough that the gathered fabric slips out from between his closed fist.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He immediately feels bare and exposed, but it does make the heat of this blasted planet feel slightly more tolerable, especially in the cool darkness they currently stood in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quinlan lifts his hand, and Obi-Wan watches as a man, dressed similarly to the women who had taken their cloaks, melts out of the darkness holding a tray of drinks. Quinlan takes two without waiting, and turns to shove the second into Obi-Wan’s hand. “Drink,” he orders, and that Obi-Wan can do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t know what alcohol is in his glass, but it burns down his throat and into his chest. It has a distinct spiced flavor — maybe something local — but the bite is welcome, and Obi-Wan can feel himself coming back into focus.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master Vos, what a pleasant surprise.” Obi-Wan turns to find Quinlan holding the arm of an older woman, the only person in the whole room who seems to be fully dressed. She looks shrewdly at Obi-Wan, and he immediately feels sized up. “Who’s your friend?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is Master Kenobi,” Quinlan says, before Obi-Wan can remove himself from this situation. “I’d like to request you set him up with someone special.” He pitches his voice lower, to a stage whisper: “It’s his first time at one of these establishments, you see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman moves to Obi-Wan’s side quicker than he thought possible. “You have handsome friends, Master Vos,” she says, and now he knows his blush is visible. “Yes, I think I have a few who will do quite nicely. Men or women?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Men,” Quinlan says, before Obi-Wan can respond, and then laughs. “At least, last I checked with him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Charming,” Obi-Wan mumbles, but the woman has already moved away from him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll take you both to the back,” she says, and Quinlan looks back at him with a wink. He starts following her, and it seems like Obi-Wan has no choice but to follow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The building is, it appears, much bigger than just the main room they entered into. The woman leads the two of them through a door behind the bar that Obi-Wan would’ve missed, had he been left alone to his own devices, and the hallway they walk into is flanked on all sides by similar doors. Obi-Wan thinks he can hear gasps through the walls, and looks down at his feet immediately. It does nothing to help, or to quell the nerves settling in the pit of his stomach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He almost runs into Quinlan’s back that way, and looks up just quickly enough to stop himself. “Through here,” the woman says, and Obi-Wan peers around his friend at the door that has just opened. This room is much brighter, and is centered around a round couch set into the floor. The woman stands at the rim, but Quinlan takes the few short steps into the pit, and Obi-Wan follows him, sitting beside him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This seems like a bad idea,” he mumbles, and Quinlan laughs at him, the bastard. “I’m serious. How do you even know this woman?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This isn’t my first time at Madame Baretts’s establishment,” Quinlan says, and leans back into the cushions. He looks so relaxed, although Obi-Wan can’t imagine why. This was more stressful than staring down a whole battalion of battle droids. “That’s the benefit of working the Outer Rim territories during this war. You can get anything you want, if you have the money to back it up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So glad to know that the money from your stipend is stimulating the local economies,” Obi-Wan grouses, and takes another sip from the cup he’s still holding. “I take it the Council doesn’t know about your habits.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would it matter if they did?” Quinlan asks, shrugging. “The council didn’t know we were fucking, did they?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s different,” he snaps. “You know the Council, and the Senate, disallow slavery.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quinlan waves his hand through the air. “So? I’m paying them, aren’t I? Honestly, Obi-Wan. I’d really hoped you would grow out of being such a stick in the mud.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I’d hoped you would learn some responsibility,” he retorts, but Quinlan is looking past him, back toward the door. Obi-Wan turns to face the same direction, and is embarrassed at how fast his breath catches in his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Madam Baretts has returned, although Obi-Wan had never even noticed her leave, and now has a gold chain held loosely in her hand. Obi-Wan follows the thin, glittering links up to the broader iron collar that sits around the neck of the most beautiful man Obi-Wan has ever seen. He’s much taller than Madam Baretts, and at least a hand taller than Obi-Wan himself. He’s stooped over at the shoulders, likely to stop the chain from being pulled completely taut, and his shoulder length hair is falling in waves around his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan’s eyes are drawn downward, despite his best attempts. Save for the collar, the boy isn’t wearing much else, just a simple brown cloth wrapped around his waist. He makes it all the way to the curve of the boy’s hip before he tears his eyes away, feeling his face get hot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is the one?” Quinlan asks, and now he’s sitting forward with some indication of interest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Madame Baretts nods, and starts walking the boy toward the couch. “He’s one of the best we have,” she promises, and guides him down the stairs until they’re standing in front of Obi-Wan and Quinlan. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He looks strong,” Quinlan notes, and now he stands, circling the boy. They’re about of height, and Obi-Wan watches as the boy meets Quinlan’s gaze with ease. He has a certain tilt to his head, Obi-Wan notices; enticing and challenging all at once. For a moment, he wonders what it would be like for that gaze to be trained on him. Just as quickly he pushes the thought back down, tucking it into the back of his mind. He will not give in to his friend’s attempts to get him to — loosen up, no matter how convincing they might seem at first. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Madam Baretts hums. “He is very strong, Master Vos. Worked many years as a slave in one of the automotive junkyards before I bought him. He can handle nearly everything a customer wishes of him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quinlan chuckles, and Obi-Wan really wishes he would stop doing that. “Don’t worry, I don’t think Master Kenobi will be looking for anything that adventurous.” He comes back around to the front and stands right in Obi-Wan’s line of sight, although Obi-Wan can still see Quinlan take the boy’s chin between two fingers and turn his head side to side. “And how old is he?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seventeen, Master Vos. If that pleases you. We can always go younger —” Madame Baretts cuts herself off when Quinlan raises his free hand, which Obi-Wan is grateful for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I think he will do nicely.” Quinlan steps to the side, letting go of the boy’s chin, although he keeps his head up. Now, with no one between them, Obi-Wan can feel it as their eyes meet. The boy’s gaze is calling Obi-Wan to him as much as it is pinning him to his seat, so of course Obi-Wan’s traitorous body decides the only appropriate thing is to stand up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy doesn’t drop his gaze for a moment, and Obi-Wan can see a fire burning in the back of his blue eyes. He folds his arms on instinct, rubbing his own chin to hide the way his hand is shaking. Quinlan clasps him firmly on the shoulder, and Obi-Wan smiles thinly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you still offer demonstrations for your customers, Madame?” Quinlan asks, and Obi-Wan looks askance at him. Quinlan doesn’t seem to notice, looking over to where Madame Baretts is now standing back on the edge of the pit. “I think my friend would benefit from getting a sense of his purchase before his commits.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not for every customer, but for a regular like you?” Madame Baretts says. “I think I can arrange something.” She waves a hand, and an attendant Obi-Wan hadn’t even noticed peels herself off of the far wall. “Go fetch Vothed from the main room, and tell him he’ll be demonstrating a purchase.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The girl slips out of the room, and Madame Baretts turns back to them. “He is suitable, yes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, certainly,” Quinlan says. “Master Kenobi, don’t you agree?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan finds his mouth has gone rather dry. The boy is still staring at him, and he wets his lips quickly, trying to find the voice to speak. “What’s your name?” He finally says, ignoring Quinlan’s question entirely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“His name is Anakin,” Madame Baretts says, and Obi-Wan would turn to glare at her, but he can’t bring himself to break the moment. Instead, he just raises his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t believe I asked you,” he says, and watches as the boy’s face shifts into a small smile. “What is your name?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anakin Skywalker, sir,” the boy says, looking down at Obi-Wan with hooded eyes. His voice is rough and gravelly, and Obi-Wan can feel the hair on his arms stand up. “And I am pleased to be yours for the evening, if that is your desire.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quinlan laughs again, tightening his grip on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Listen to that,” he says, “someone who might let you boss them around without complaining. All your dreams are coming true, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He is very well-trained,” Madame Baretts interjects, and Obi-Wan suddenly finds her voice grating. “His prior experience as a slave has made him responsive to all orders without question.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door behind them opens, and Obi-Wan finally looks away from Anakin to see the attendant enter the room again, followed by a much larger man. He nearly fills the entire doorway, and it seems he was not awarded the same privilege as Anakin to wear clothes. His cock is swollen against his stomach, already wet at the tip, and Obi-Wan realizes all of a sudden what a demonstration must mean in a whore house.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, gentleman, be seated,” Madame Baretts instructs, and Obi-Wan moves like he’s in a dream back to the couch. The same attendant walks behind them now and deftly fills their cups, and Obi-Wan is immediately grateful for the chance to take a long, deep sip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he opens his eyes again, Vothed is now standing next to Anakin in the circular space in the center of the couch. If he had looked large in the doorway, he looks even larger now; his shoulders are nearly twice as wide as Anakin’s, and the top of Anakin’s head is even with his collarbones.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here,” Madame Baretts says, and reaches over the edge of the pit to hand the end of the chain to Vothed. “You may begin whenever you please. Remember, Anakin: put on a good show, hm?” Obi-Wan picks up just the barest hint of a threat in her voice, and he looks back at Anakin. The boy’s face looks the same, but Obi-Wan can see the corner of his jaw twitch, as if Anakin is grinding his teeth. Fascinating.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t get to look much longer; Vothed places a hand on the back of Anakin’s neck and immediately Anakin drops to all fours. Obi-Wan is immediately drawn to the way his body moves, the way he can see muscles shifting under his skin. For a moment, Anakin hangs his head, face hidden by a thin curtain of hair, but then he turns his neck and meets Obi-Wan’s eyes yet again. Obi-Wan stares as Anakin’s lips fall slightly open, and while he still remembers Madame Baretts demanding Anakin to put on a show, it suddenly feels like the rest of the room is falling away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment doesn’t last. Anakin’s head is yanked upwards, and Obi-Wan once again follows the line of the chain to Vothed’s hand. He’s pulling Anakin back, now on his knees behind him, although he still towers above the boy. “Behave,” he says, his voice roughly accented, although Obi-Wan can’t place the dialect. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead of arguing, or yanking his head back forward, Anakin arches his back and moans softly. “Yes, sir,” he says, and Obi-Wan watches as Vothed loosens his grip and Anakin immediately falls forward, resting all of his weight on his shoulders. Obi-Wan is certain that the stone floor in this room, a far cry from the cushions in the entryway, is achingly painful, but the long line of Anakin’s body doesn’t indicate that anything is wrong. Instead, he remains perfectly still, and the rise and fall of his chest feels in sync with Obi-Wan’s heartbeat. He can feel his pulse in his ears, thundering through his head, and wonders for a moment if Anakin can hear it, too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Without warning, Vothed suddenly thrusts forward, and Anakin cries out, raw and open. It takes Obi-Wan a moment to realize that he is crying out in pleasure, rather than pain, but Vothed doesn’t seem to have the same hesitation. He continues thrusting forward, and Anakin’s fingers scrabble at the floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Whatever Madame Baretts had meant by putting on a show, it seemed Anakin had taken the advice to heart. With every thrust, Obi-Wan can see him rocking further on his shoulders, and every moan is high-pitched and breathy, while Vothed remains rather silent. And yet Obi-Wan’s body doesn’t seem to notice; he can feel his cock stiffening against his thigh, and suddenly he is desperate to have his cloak back, if only to cover his lap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He has the distinct sense, however, that this is the point. That the show Anakin is supposed to put on is meant for Obi-Wan, and only for him. He hates to admit that it’s working. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, Vothed grunts and stills, and Obi-Wan watches as Anakin shudders from his toes to his shoulders. He can see Vothed’s come already starting to drip down the inside of Anakin’s thigh, and he digs his fingers into the cushions of the couch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes everything in him to look away, although there’s not really a safe place to rest his eyes. Anakin’s chest is heaving, and the bit of his face Obi-Wan can see is red. His hair is spread out across the floor, and his eyes are hooded, pupils blown. And yet he still meets Obi-Wan’s gaze as if he feels the stare, and as if for Obi-Wan’s benefit, he moans lewdly as Vothed pulls out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very good,” Madame Baretts says, and Obi-Wan is suddenly painfully aware of her and Quinlan, still seated next to him. “Vothed, you are dismissed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The larger man nods his head and stands quickly, leaving the same way he came. He leaves Anakin there on the floor, ass still in the air, and Obi-Wan finds himself yet again tracing the shape of his body with his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Madame Baretts descends into the pit, and picks up the chain from where Volthed left it piled on the floor. With a yank, she pulls Anakin forward and the boy stumbles to his feet, breathing heavily as she pulls him closer to where Obi-Wan is sitting. “For you, Master Kenobi,” she says, and Obi-Wan instinctively reaches out to take the chain from her. “Anakin, show this man your rooms. And treat him with all your kindness, understood?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin inclines his head. “Yes, mistress,” he says, and Madame Baretts seems pleased. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come, Master Vos,” she says, and Quinlan stands from the couch. “Would you like to repeat one of your previous purchases? Or try something new?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perhaps something new,” he says, but then turns back to Obi-Wan. “Enjoy yourself, Obi. And for star’s sake, stop frowning.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am not frowning,” he calls after his friend, but then the door closes and he is alone with Anakin, the chain cold in his fist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can feel Anakin’s gaze burning into him. “Follow me, sir,” the boy says, although he doesn’t move until Obi-Wan stands, albeit on shaky legs. If Anakin notices his growing hard-on, he doesn’t say anything; instead he just begins to guide them out of the pit and toward the back of the room, where yet another door slides open once Anakin draws closer. This hallway is much more subtly lit, as if illuminated by firelight alone; Obi-Wan watches as the light plays with Anakin’s hair as they walk, illuminating each strand until he seems to be glowing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This time, the room they enter is small, and the main feature is quite clearly the plain bed in the middle. Obi-Wan sees the chair next to the door, however, and drops Anakin’s chain once they’re both in the room, sitting as steadily as he can muster.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How can I help you, Master Kenobi?” Anakin says, and his voice is back to being low and rough, and it once again sets Obi-Wan on fire. “Would you like something to drink? Would you like me to service you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He swallows, hard. “Actually, some water would be nice,” he says, and wipes his frustratingly sweaty palms on the front of his robes. “You may help yourself to a drink, however. If you wish. You have,” his voice betrays him for a second, and he breathes in deeply through his nose. “You have my permission.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin stares at him for a moment, as if knocked off balance by something Obi-Wan has said. If he was truly rattled, however, he recovers quickly, laughing softly. “I’m not allowed to drink while with a customer, sir. But it’s quite kind of you to offer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right,” he says faintly, watching as Anakin walks over to a table next to the bed and picks up a clay pitcher from a tray, filling the two cups halfway up. He returns swiftly, and Obi-Wan takes the cup gratefully, throwing his head back to wet his throat. The water is warm and more than a little dusty, but he knows it’s better than drinking any more of that spiced alcohol, especially right now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a little bit easier to look at Anakin now, but he is certain that’s in his head. In the calmer light of this room, he seems less statuesque, although no less beautiful. Now, Obi-Wan can see the slightest bit of stubble on his cheeks, and the thin white line of a scar from his forehead to his cheek, crossing over one of his eyes. “You’re not seventeen, are you?” He asks, and Anakin smirks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you ask the mistress, I’ve been seventeen for three years,” he says, and then shrugs. “The clientele around these parts like that. You seem different.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he observes dryly, and Anakin smiles at that. Any thought that Obi-Wan had, of having seen Anakin smile earlier, is blasted away; this, clearer than anything else, is Anakin’s real smile. A little sharp around the edges, and a little too wide to be perfect. Obi-Wan thinks he is beautiful, and the thought is nearly enough to damn him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“May I ask a question of my own?” Anakin asks, voice growing a little stronger. “If you allow it, of course.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan nods and gestures his hand, taking another sip of his water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin looks like he is gathering all of his courage before speaking. “Is this your first time, sir?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can feel his face getting warmer, which is embarrassing; he’s not the man to blush at the mere discussion of sex, but something about — paying for it has him on edge. “It is my first time at an establishment of this nature,” he says, after a moment of hesitation, “but no. I have slept with people before. I have slept with men before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin’s eyes brighten, and suddenly he’s back in Obi-Wan’s space, standing right between his knees. “That’s good, sir,” he says, and places his own glass of water on a small table next to the chair. He takes Obi-Wan’s cup from his fingers next, placing it next to his own. “Would you like me to pretend like it is my first time?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” He says, and then shakes his head. “No, no, that’s — I don’t need you to do anything. I don’t want to waste your time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin honest-to-stars </span>
  <em>
    <span>pouts</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his lower lip sliding forward. “But sir,” he says, and suddenly Anakin is balanced in his lap, “what if I want to do something?” He grinds his hip down, and any chance of Obi-Wan keeping his arousal secret dissipates instantly. “I’d be more than happy to help with that problem,” he purrs, and as he grinds down again, Obi-Wan becomes very aware of the fact that Anakin isn’t wearing anything under the small fabric wrap he was afforded earlier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He swallows hard, and resolutely keeps his eyes on Anakin’s face. Not that his face is any less distracting than the rest of him; his pupils are blown, and now Obi-Wan can only see a thin ring of blue around the black. “My friend just thought this would be funny,” he says, although his voice is raspy, and Anakin smirks at that. “I told him it was a bad idea, but he wouldn’t listen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin drapes his arms around Obi-Wan’s shoulders, and he can feel Anakin start to tug at the back of his hair, where it’s growing a little too long. “I don’t think this is a bad idea,” he whispers, and grinds down again. Obi-Wan grunts against his will, and Anakin looks delighted. “Listen,” he says, this time at a normal volume, “I am very expensive. If you’re going to be paying for a night with me, the least you could do is let me show you why.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, he almost thinks he might say </span>
  <em>
    <span>no, thank you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and gently remove Anakin from his lap and be on his way. Instead, Anakin ducks his head to press his lips under Obi-Wan’s ear, and his hands snap to Anakin’s waist nearly immediately. “Good choice,” Anakin says into his skin, and Obi-Wan shivers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me kiss you, sir,” Anakin says, sitting back far enough to get his hands flat on Obi-Wan’s chest. “I’ll make it good, I promise I can make it good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan doesn’t need to be asked twice. He places his hand at the back of Anakin’s neck, right over the hinge of the collar, and pulls his head down to press their lips together. Anakin’s lips are a little dry, but he doesn’t have enough time to even notice before Anakin works Obi-Wan’s mouth open and licks against his teeth, tongue searching out like he wants to chase the last of the water taste from Obi-Wan’s mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, he almost surges to his feet. He almost picks Anakin up — he’s deceptively light in Obi-Wan’s lap, despite his height. He wants to bite the boy’s lower lip, yank at his hair, see how he looks with Obi-Wan’s hand around his throat. But then Anakin pulls back, and the moment is lost, and Obi-Wan forces himself to catch his breath. He cannot treat Anakin that way, the way he would treat someone he’d slept with before. They’d only just met. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin doesn’t seem to be on the same page, however. He immediately dives in for another kiss, and whines until Obi-Wan sucks his tongue back into his mouth. Anakin’s hips jump again, stuttering against Obi-Wan’s cock, which is now achingly hard, trapped against his robes. Obi-Wan presses into his hips even firmer, feeling Anakin squirm against his grasp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want to touch my tits, Master?” Anakin asks the minute they break apart, and doesn’t wait for an answer, taking Obi-Wan’s hands from his waist and placing them on his chest. Obi-Wan brushes against his nipples, almost on instinct, and Anakin cries out, throwing his head back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan takes the chance to roll Anakin’s nipples between his pinched fingers, savoring every time Anakin twitches or moans. He’s doing plenty of both; he’s clearly very sensitive, and Obi-Wan feels like his stomach has fallen into his toes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grabs one nipple tightly, yanking at Anakin’s chest, and Anakin nearly screams, before closing the distance between them for another kiss. “Fuck me,” Anakin gasps into his mouth, and his hands are back in Obi-Wan’s hair. “Fuck me, Master, please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He breathes in, sharply, and forces himself to press the back of his head to the wall. “On the bed, then,” he says, and at the order, Anakin’s eyes go a little glassy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Master,” he says, and stumbles out of Obi-Wan’s lap and onto the bed. He lands on his back, and for a moment, Obi-Wan just drinks in the sight of him, splayed back on the sheets. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Undress,” he says after a moment, and Anakin scrambles to get the fastenings on his covering off. He strips quickly enough, and throws the scrap of fabric off the side of the bed. Obi-Wan can hardly look away; Anakin’s cock is beautiful, pink and aching and nearly begging to be taken in hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s about to go over to Anakin when he notices. “You didn’t —” He gestures toward Anakin’s lap. “You didn’t get to come, in there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?” Anakin asks, sounding far away, and then he blinks a few times. “Oh, uh. No. They don’t like us to, when we’re being shown off.” He frowns, so quickly that Obi-Wan isn’t sure if he imagined it. “I’d rather not talk about that, though, Master,” he says, and flutters his eyelashes. “I’d rather talk about how bad I want you to take me for yourself. Don’t you want to fill me instead?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everything in the universe be damned, he does. He stands from the chair, taking his belt off as he goes. Anakin’s eyes follow his motions, all the way to when he drops the belt on the floor, and he makes a note of it; for what reason, he’s unsure. The rest of his robes come off easily, and by the time he’s reached the side of the bed, he’s only in his breeches.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin looks up at him in a way Obi-Wan can only describe as hungry. “Please,” he says, and Obi-Wan crumbles. He shoves his breeches and underclothes off, and moves to the bed so swiftly, placing his knees on either side of Anakin’s thighs. He wants to kiss him again, so he does; this time, he slows the pace down, leaving Anakin gasping when he pulls away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please,” he says again, and Obi-Wan looks back down between them. Anakin’s thighs are pressing up against his knees as he tries to spread his legs, and Obi-Wan is more than happy to move to the side and let Anakin open as wide as he wants. The insides of his thighs are still sticky with the evidence of Vothed’s demonstration, but his hole is shiny and wet all the same. He’d noticed that, how Vothed had pushed in without any lube, but it doesn’t give him much pause. Humans on different planets had evolved differently; this was by far the most normal possibility. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As if reading his mind, Anakin moans; if it’s for show, it sounds far more real than his earlier examples. “Please, Master,” he begs, “look how wet I am for you, sir, please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He settles himself back between Anakin’s legs. Anakin is, in fact, wet; maybe even getting wetter. Before he can tell himself it’s a bad idea, he bends at the waist and presses his tongue flat to Anakin’s hole. He can feel Anakin’s thighs go tight around his head and start pressing in, but he has been well trained; he keeps his knees spread, and merely gasps like he’s been shocked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan almost lets himself get taken over by the motions, licking long and slow before alternating with quicker movements, getting his mouth as close as possible. He can hear Anakin begging above him, but it’s the sharp ache of Anakin’s hands in his hair that stops him from really getting settled. Instead, he leaves a stinging bite on Anakin’s rim, savoring the way he gasps, and then presses the tip of his thumb against Anakin’s hole.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can feel him fluttering against the pressure, like his body is trying to drag Obi-Wan in, and after a moment he lets him, pushing his thumb in up to the base. Anakin whines, and shoves his hips down, like he’s trying to take more. “Oh,” he says, high and thin, “oh, Master, more, please, more.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He forces himself to go slow, to press the pad of his finger firmly against Anakin’s walls. The boy shakes every time he moves, and Obi-Wan moves his face back far enough to see Anakin’s cock twitch against his stomach. The space between his legs is red, now, rubbed raw from Obi-Wan’s beard, and the sight makes him press his face back, just to rub his beard against the sensitive skin there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please,” Anakin says again, and this time his voice breaks on the last half of the word. “You can fuck me, just like this, I promise I can take it, Master, I can take whatever you give me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan groans, and Anakin lets out a laugh that turns into a whine once Obi-Wan pulls his thumb out. He’s not gone for long, however; already settled between Anakin’s legs, he takes a moment to push his thighs open before lining his cock up and tracing around Anakin’s rim. He’s gotten steadily wetter — Obi-Wan can feel it wetting his beard even now — and the urge to shove in all at once is overwhelming. Instead, he breathes in through his nose and guides the tip of his cock in as slowly as he can stand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin moans loudly, arching his back off the mattress. “Please,” he says again, like it’s the only word he knows. “More, please, please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t deny him, but neither does he speed up. Instead, he keeps his hips controlled and steady, sinking into Anakin centimeter by centimeter. It’s nearly torture; he’s wet and warm and </span>
  <em>
    <span>tight</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and it makes Obi Wan’s toes curl even now. He bottoms out in a haze, and Anakin’s hands are immediately on his shoulders, nails scratching at his back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lets himself stay still for a second, breathing in through the fog in his mind. He can’t focus on anything but Anakin’s face, eyes closed in bliss, chest heaving. His nipples are still a little raw from where Obi-Wan was pinching at them, only moments before, and he reaches up almost absentmindedly to do the same again. Anakin whines, and then squirms desperately, trapped between Obi-Wan’s rough hands and his cock. “Beautiful,” Obi-Wan says, voice raw, and Anakin thrashes beneath him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He takes this as his cue to start moving, working with just gentle thrusts at first. Anakin takes everything eagerly, opening up for Obi-Wan beautifully. For a second, Obi-Wan understands why someone would pay for sex, and for a moment longer, he lets himself entertain the idea of buying Anakin for himself. The guilt that chases that thought away is decidedly unwelcome, but then Anakin groans again, and Obi-Wan forgets about it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please,” Anakin says again, as he struggles to catch his breath, “Master, I need more, I need you to fuck me, I need you to fill me up, please, let me take it, I can handle it, I want everything, I want you to make me yours.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And in that moment he forgets; forgets that he promised himself to be gentle, swore that he would go no further than necessary. Anakin tightens around him, and he growls, the edges of his vision turning black. The next time he thrusts forward, Anakin gasps, and they both shift further up the thin mattress. For a moment, they’re suspended in silence, and then Anakin sobs, a broken, desperate noise, and Obi-Wan grips Anakin’s hips so hard he can see the tan skin around his fingers turning white.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now that he’s started, he can’t slow down, and his body seems to be moving on its own. The bed is shaking, and he can faintly hear the sound of the frame slamming up against the wall, although it is mostly covered by Anakin’s punched-out groans every time Obi-Wan’s hips meet his ass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spur of the moment, he grabs the chain from where it is pooled next to Anakin’s shoulder on the bed. It clanks against the collar as he grabs it, and Anakin’s eyes widen slowly. “Master,” he starts, and then Obi-Wan yanks firmly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin’s chest lifts off the bed, led by his neck, and he moans, even as his fingers fly up to the edge of the collar. It’s cutting thin red lines into Anakin’s skin, and Obi-Wan pulls even harder, until Anakin is sitting up far enough that Obi-Wan can grab him by the front of his throat and yank him in for a kiss, sloppy and uncoordinated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin kisses him as long as he can, but before Obi-Wan is done, he breaks their lips apart. “Please touch me,” he begs, and Obi-Wan looks down to see the puddle of wetness collecting on Anakin’s stomach, slowly dripping down to where they’re joined together. “Please, Master, I want to come for you, I want to show you how good you make me feel.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan lets go of the chain in an instant, and Anakin slams back down onto the bed, hard enough to send a small cloud of sand up around them. Obi-Wan hardly notices, however; his focus is on getting his hand around Anakin’s red, swollen cock. He moves his wrist once, twice, and then Anakin is spilling all over his hand and his stomach, painting himself white. He moans as he comes, low and deep and sounding as if he’s pulled the noise from the base of his stomach. He clenches impossibly tightly around Obi-Wan as he does, and it sets off sparks behind his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If coming makes Anakin sensitive, he doesn’t show it; instead, he just reaches down and pulls his own knees up to his chest, nearly bending himself in half. Obi-Wan can only watch as Anakin opens himself even more, and now he can see the way his cock looks dragging in and out of him in excruciating detail. “Yes,” Anakin mumbles, half into the sheets, “Yes, Master, you make me feel so good, better than anyone else I’ve ever laid with, I want you to fill me up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He snarls, ducking his head to bite at the soft skin at the join of Anakin’s neck and his shoulder. Anakin wails, and this is enough to send Obi-Wan over the edge, coming so hard his body locks up for a minute after, chest heaving as he empties himself entirely into Anakin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neither of them move. The haze is slowly fading away from Obi-Wan’s mind, and slowly, slowly, he can feel the weight of this particular choice settling on his shoulders. He wants to pull out, get dressed, and vanish back into the night, but his body won’t move. Anakin doesn’t seem inclined to help him; he looks half asleep, and Obi-Wan would worry he’d already fallen asleep if it weren’t for the fact that Anakin was tracing his fingers through the mess on his own stomach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He waits as long as he can stand before pulling out, although Anakin still whines when he does. He’s almost distracted by the way his come starts leaking out of Anakin — almost — but now that his mind feels clearer, he’s remembered the situation in full detail. Maybe too vividly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan uses a corner of the sheet to wipe himself down, hissing at the sensation, and then starts picking up his clothes from the floor. As easy as the robes are to take off, they’re a bit more complicated to put back on; by the time he is standing fully dressed, Anakin has rolled over onto his side and is looking at Obi-Wan with a measured gaze that Obi-Wan has no hope of reading.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I —” he starts, and then shakes his head. “I’ll make sure our account is settled.” He reaches to his belt again and opens the pouch he keeps there. He’s never carrying much, but he fishes out everything he has, tossing it onto the bed. “Here. Extras. You keep that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin gathers the credits toward him, although he makes no motion to count them. “Right,” he says finally, looking back at Obi-Wan. “You don’t need to rush off, you know.” He says, and if Obi-Wan didn’t know any better, he would think Anakin was trying a Jedi Mind Trick on him; the pull on his heart and his feet can’t be natural. But of course it was, and wasn’t that the trick of it all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should find Master Vos,” he says, but the protest sounds pathetic to his own ears. “I’m sorry,” he says, although he’s not sure for what.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin meets his eyes again. “I’ll be here,” he says slowly, steadily, and his voice sounds serious. “If you’re ever in the area again,” he continues, and Obi-Wan craves him with every part of his mind, “you’ll know where to find me.” The boy swallows, and then looks back at Obi-Wan, and nothing has changed but Obi-Wan feels like Anakin has suddenly bared himself. “Please,” he says again, and it has the same pull on Obi-Wan as it did before. “Please come back to see me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I bet you say that to all the men,” he jokes, and Anakin shakes his head so fast Obi-Wan is worried he’s going to throw out his neck. Instead, he just rises from the bed, and comes to stand in front of Obi-Wan, still naked and covered in come.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never,” Anakin promises, and some part of Obi-Wan knows he isn’t lying. “I’ve never said that before, I swear.” He leans in for a kiss, and Obi-Wan lets him; a final, fatal mistake. This kiss is soft, gentle; the kiss of two lovers. Obi-Wan would know. The last person who kissed him this way still rests heavy in his mind, a reminder of his first and, at the time, what he’d hoped would be his last mistake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they pull apart, Anakin smooths his thumb over Obi-Wan’s cheek before letting his hand drop. “What’s your name?” He asks, and Obi-Wan thinks his eyes are wild and beautiful. “Not Master Kenobi, either. Your name.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Obi-Wan,” he says, each letter stinging the tip of his tongue.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Obi-Wan,” Anakin repeats, and he doesn’t think the boy says it any differently, but it sounds like a prayer. A promise. “You should go find your friend,” he allows, and steps back, too far to touch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He allows himself a moment to close his eyes, a moment to commit this moment to memory. “May the Force be with you,” he says as his eyes open, and turns before he can fall back into Anakin’s arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It is difficult to find his way back through the maze of doors and hallways he’d been led through before, but eventually he stumbles back into the bar, where Quinlan is sitting, shirtless and surrounded by more than a few men and women both. When he sees Obi-Wan, though, his face lights up. “Obi!” He cries out, and nearly half the establishment turns to look at him. “How was it, eh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll see you back at the ship,” is all he says, and stops just long enough at the door to grab his cloak from a hook to the side. He wraps himself back in the brown fabric and, for a moment, is able to become someone else, someone who hadn’t nearly thrown his entire life away for — for a whore. Because that was what Anakin was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ship is still peacefully parked in the shipyard where they’d left it this morning, and Obi Wan lets himself up the ramp and into the cockpit. His astromech perks up, whirring a little, and he just pats it gently on the head. “Did we get any messages, R2?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another whir, and then R2 is projecting Ahsoka into the empty space of the cockpit. “Master Kenobi,” she says, “The council has assigned us back to Geonosis; we’ll be leading the main forces against the droid factory there. Respond as soon as you can; Cody and I are already starting the troops in motion.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The hologram fades away, leaving Obi-Wan alone in the dark cockpit. “Right,” he says softly, looking out the windows and up, into the dusty sky of Tatooine. There was a war out there, after all. A war he couldn’t run from.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He allows himself a moment to ask the Force to keep Anakin safe; away from the war, outside of the fighting. And then he turns out of the cockpit, letting R2 follow him to the fighter attached to the back of their transport. Quinlan would figure out where he’d gone soon enough, and by that point, maybe Obi-Wan would be far enough from Tatooine to forget the piece of him he was leaving behind.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
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